Unreal
by JamedVelocity
Summary: "I always thought there was something romantic about fighting for someone. About winning them back. Eventual happiness." He says and I speak next, "But as I sit here with stones in my chest. Where hope used to lie. I have come to realize that there is nothing lovely - " He cuts me off. "About having to continuously convince someone to love you." [timetravel!fic OCxCanon]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I was listening to remixes of old Nintendo songs and watching a few AMVs(some not even Naruto sdfjsdhk) and like, I don't even know man. Just roll with it and I'll try to write properly.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

* * *

"Here we go."

CHAPTER 1

_10 days till the axis rouses_

* * *

When I was a kid my mother would always tell me to behave myself, meaning, never burping or farting in public, no elbows on the table(lest I'd like to be called French, my mum was an antagonistic towards French people, that's hypocrisy because she and I are French) and to never ever act like a boy.

Did I ever disobey her? No.

I liked my mom, she was strong, strict, and knew when to put her foot down. Meaning she'd kick your ass if you were ever out of line with her and I am forced to tell you, it's pretty awesome.

There are many awesome people in my life but never any pretty-pretty people. Everyone was decent looking and all, and yeah everyone had their moments where I'd go 'Yoooooooo' but… it's bland. But not the all out grey-bland, it was the rather 'Oh, we did this before'.

The moments of my life which held color was only when I hung out with my friends.

"So what you wanna do today?"

"No idea."

My friend, Cath, with all her _glory_ asked, "Mall?"

"Nah." I tipped my head back, "Can't we do something fun?"

"Like?"

"I dunno, uh… snacks?"

"Ew."

I rocked the swing I was on back, letting it go forth by its own.

I frowned, Cath was a real mood killer sometimes, "Ughhhhh."

Sighing I swung forward and used the momentum to jump off the swing, "I hate college."

Then the swing swung back forth and hit me on my butt to which I said something very prominent to the humorous me, "- Aaaaand College hates me."

Cath smacked my shoulder, hard.

Scratch that, she's _always _a mood killer.

I winced, rubbing where she'd just hit me, "What was that for?!"

"I'm using the momentum." And then she walks ahead of me.

"God you're a jerk."

"That's why you love me."

Have you ever had this group of friends where you're okay with each other and shit but then there's this one girl who you and your friends hate and you keep her around only to diss on her when she's not there? Yeah, that's Cath, my _friend_.

And on many days I'd love to _not_ count her as my friend, but I need my daily dose of 'Wow I hate her' or what me and my friends call the WIHH.

So this brings us to today's usual WIHH material shoving herself into our lives yet again in our college's library after our professor's lecture. Me and my friend Jane shoot each other looks of 'the bitch has entered'.

"Afternoon."

"Afternoon." We respond.

There was a pause as we all stared at her and she stared back. Then she sighed so loud that the librarian had to shush her and planted her chin on her palms, "I'm bored."

Then I told her to fuck off, grabbed my bag and left the library.

Needless to say, the rest of my week went off without a hitch.

No annoying Cath, no distracting friends – I didn't even have a roommate! How lucky was I?

Done with all my project and essays, I didn't notice that the holidays had worked their way around the corner. And so I was alone.

Which I didn't mind. I knew my friends wouldn't hang out with me again and that's okay because I knew how the world worked, people come and go, and that included me too. I left my parent's lives and then my friend's; the only difference of coming and going is the difference of how much people value you. Example, you are someone's very close friend and when you leave they're either going to (a) cry, or (b) reluctantly let you go. But say if you were me, you'd either (a) say goodbye only, or (b) never even notice it.

It hurt me sometimes on somedays and on other days I'd understand.

After two or three weeks of absolute boredom and the occasional soap opera marathons, I go visit this small coffee shop that is strangely filled to the brim with people. But I didn't really care; I just needed my morning latte.

Mistake number one.

I went in, ordered for my latte, picked it up and scanned the room for any possible place for me to sit. I spotted one table with two chairs in the top-right corner, it was next to the window where I could watch cars parade through the puddles on the ground and still be faraway enough from all the people talking.

So I sat down and opened up my laptop and began clicking away using the café's private Wi-Fi (I was a usual so they were nice enough to let me use it). I opened up my last essay for the year and began working on it right away; it was about coincidences that seem like déjà vu but aren't.

I was so immersed in typing and researching that I didn't notice a man towering over me. When I heard him clear his throat, I looked up.

Mistake number two.

And what I saw was a blonde man smiling impishly with a yellow binder in hand and a big coffee-with-milk smelling Starbucks tumbler in the other. He was a Starbucks fan, classic.

"Hi, can I help you?" I say, one cliché eyebrow arched.

"Well uh… can I sit there?" He pointed towards the chair in front of me.

'Does he have to make it sound creepy?' I pursed my lips and thought for a moment, "Yeah sure."

"Thank you." He says and sits down, the chair squeaks as he does.

I plugged in my earphones and resumed working. So far so good, most of the music ranged from either acoustic covers of songs, indie songs or instrumental music so my mind was very much concentrated. I only wish I could say the same for my eyes.

Every once in a while I'd let my eyes drift to his, they were blue and engrossed in whatever he was reading. I looked down and saw that he was reading a poem in English, I could depict the name of the poem even if the words were upside down – they read 'The Raven', an Edger Allen Poe poem.

I looked up again and he caught my eyes in his.

Mistake number three.

I couldn't even describe what I saw; it was something like a familiar childhood gleam, curiosity and mischief in good-nature. I widened my eyes instinctively and watched as a smile curled on his lips.

"Poem?"

My gaze faltered, he sounded like a dork.

"Uh oh – I mean uh, are you interested in the poem I'm reading?"

A _cute_ dork.

I smiled and told him the truth, "Not really."

Now, it was his gaze that faltered, "Oh."

"You just look really into it." I say, "It'd be bad if I lied, so."

"Yeah, but you couldn't sugarcoat it or something?" He tipped his head back and I gave him a wry smile.

But it disappeared just as quick as it came. I cleared my throat and shifted my eyes around the room uncomfortably, "Sorry for bothering you." And then I continued typing away.

I felt his eyes on me instantly and I stiffened. I didn't like getting too close to people for a reason but not for those of depression or hateful, I just found relationships to be too self-sacrificial. I had to stick to my motto after all, _live for you and die for the you with a purpose._

There was an awkward silence between both of us afterwards, only filled by the typing on my keyboard, the chatter of the café and our avoidance of eye-contact.

I could tell that he didn't like being ignored. Something I could connect to.

"So what's your name?"

'Is he flirting with me now?' I looked up and saw that his eyes were jumping from his notes to my eyes, "Uh…"

"If it makes you more comfortable, I'll tell you mine," His lips curled into a smile making the whisker stickers on his cheeks all the more prominent, "I'm Naruto Uzumaki."

It was as if he dropped a nuclear bomb in my mind. Was he serious?

"Wait – are you serious?" I say.

He had this 'oh shit she knows' face and tried to make it as casual as possible, "Uh, yeah? I mean it's a really common name in, uh Japan."

"No it's not." My lips thinned, "That's the name of that swirly thing in ramen."

His eyes brightened at the word 'ramen' and I furrowed my eyebrows in annoyance. I knew how these things were in those cliché stories I read online – someone's eyes brighten and the other person with them chuckles or returns the gesture or replies positively. Bullshit.

When he opened his mouth I interrupted, "Please, do not."

He frowned, "What?"

I breathed in deeply, "Look okay, whoever you are – I know you know about my little obsession with anime but you really don't have to mock me for it – wait, did Cath send you?"

The blonde looked bewildered, "Who?"

"Ugh! She did, didn't she? That little bitch!" I yell, 'She's 23 for God's sake, can't she grow up?'

At this point people began to notice my presence so I packed my things and made a beeline for the exit. Only to be stopped by none other than whisker stickers with his hand gripping my wrist.

"Hey."

I looked over my shoulder, "Look okay, I don't really give a damn about what Cath's put you up to and I don't care what she told you to do but you can't just… you just… leave me alone!"

"Okay, number one," He says, "I don't know who Cath is and number two, I can't because you know my name."

"God you're a jerk." I say.

"Number two," He let go of my wrist and smiled that child-smile, "I'm not a jerk. Number three, I'm counted as your friend now."

"Friend?"

He nodded, "Yeah, or at least an acquaintance."

"Fine." I told him and walked away.

I could hear his voice, "I'll see you later!" _I hoped not._

I didn't really have anything against making friends. I welcomed people if they were willing enough to be friends with a person like me because, I'm generally not what most people would call social but not really anti-social, just in a way that I'm really horrible at talking.

As if the universe had to prove my point, I met _him_ again. He was in my lecture regarding psychopathic signs sitting in the bottom left corner of the room. My eyes were either on the professor and the powerpoint projection or on him, literally for the entire lecture which was around one hour.

At some points he must've felt somebody staring at him and at these points I ducked inconspicuously. If he wasn't the idiot I thought he was then he must've at least noticed that it was _me_ staring at him.

I was right.

After the lecture ended I made yet my second beeline of the day to the exit only to be stopped by his grip on my wrist.

I took a deep breath and prepared for the staring accusation of the day.

"Hey."

"Oh my God," I tried faking it, "You again?"

"Yeah, you go to this college too?" Naruto grinned.

"Yeah whisker stickers, It's the only college in town."

His grin faltered, "Naruto."

"Dude, get real, you've got whiskers on your cheeks – no way they're real."

"You can touch them if you want."

I blanched, "Uh…"

"I meant," He shrugged, "to prove to you that they're real."

"And why would you need me to believe you?"

"Why not?" Naruto was skeptic at this point.

I breathed in, debating whether to walk away or say what I needed to get him off my back for good. I chose the latter.

"Because I don't matter in your life."

I said so because at the time I didn't, he was just a guy I met in a café and I was just a girl he'd attempted to befriend. I'll always be the bad friend, even if I'm not the _hated one_ in a group of people (For example, Cath). This wasn't just because I had the ability to hurt someone it was also because whilst in the process of hurting someone I hurt myself because I feel guilty, but guilty because I can't stop being horrible.

It wasn't even kindness, rather it was selfishness.

"Of course you do." He said genuinely but I took it as a lie.

"Why?" I asked.

He didn't answer. I walked away.

* * *

**A/N: I haven't revealed my OC's name yet for a reason. I want to know if you think this story is good enough to continue, so please drop a review telling me what you thought! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A big thank you to those who have reviewed, followed and favorite-d!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.**

* * *

"I'll punch you."

CHAPTER 2

_9 days till the axis rouses_

* * *

My feet carried me all the way to my apartment cold and wet. I had apparently forgotten to shut the window and thus my entire living room floor was coated in rainwater. I dreaded cleaning it, and I did everything to avoid doing so. So all I did was shut the window and eat some cold chicken sandwich from the fridge; when I came back the floor was all dry and I could get to work without the fear of humidity making me sweat.

Once I finished the rest of my essay; I began printing the 10-page long load of hell. I decided as a little treat I'd go window-shopping then get myself dinner despite being still full.

I left my apartment with my blue overcoat on and dark olive scarf wrapped loosely around my neck. The streets bustled as people did too, the shops that lined the pavement were all open with lights of yellow and white. I moved with the crowd for a very long time until I arrived at a street I didn't know, which was weird because I've lived in this town since the day I was born and I knew almost every crevice of this place.

Keyword being _almost_.

The chance of being lost was however little to none.

This part of the town I figured out to be the part of which I dreaded the most, it was too peaceful and too far away from the chatter of people. I was horrible at socializing but it didn't mean I wanted to be away from it. I enjoyed the people filling the emptiness of space with their voices. I just felt more at home when there was noise around me when I'm in an aim-deprived haze.

I roamed the mysterious street that I found to grow to be incredibly comforting with every step I took. I stopped walking when I saw a flower shop to my right, it looked attractive and the flowers looked very well tended (because usually the flower shops in the busy part of town had a majority brown and hole-full leaves); I only wondered what a flower shop would be doing open at a time like this.

I crossed the empty road and entered the shop with a chime (the bell-chime that you usually hear when you enter those old-style barber shops). Nobody was in there except me at the time, so I took this opportunity to look through its shelves and tables and vases. Many of the flowers I saw were rare to find, a lot of them (I recognized) came from Japan, Indonesia or India.

The shop sold a whole lot of things. I found flower frames, pressed flowers, flower-furniture and flower jewelry, but what really caught my eye was one very special flower crown.

Though I'd never been the type of girl to keep crowns and jewelry; I've always enjoyed the things that reminded me of home. Jewelry and crowns included, because even if my mother was strict with me – she never missed the moment to buy me princess crowns and little gowns. I loved everything I ever had as a kid not because it was _girlish_ or _tomboyish_, but because it reminded me of the times I've spent growing up. It reminded me that I was a woman and no longer a girl and I had to do things without my parents there to hold my hand. It was painful because to be honest I never wanted them to let go of my hand. Things of my childhood symbolized what I had yet to let go and how big the weight on my shoulders was. But I didn't mind all that much. Not when I loved it so much.

I took a flower crown from a table beside me and saw that it was made from olive wood and decorated with leaves that came from peach trees and radishes. It smelled of my mother's fried chickpeas and spiced nuts. They were my favorite snacks as a kid.

I held the flower crown to my nose and breathed in. The smell was so intoxicating that I found myself stumbling.

"Hello there! Can I help you?"

I turned around and saw a girl with long platinum blonde hair and blue eyes. She was very pretty.

"Yes," I say, "I'd like to buy this."

"A radish wreath is five dollars." She says, "Please come with me."

Although she said that it was a wreath; I secretly called it a flower crown. It had a much nicer name than wreath because wreaths reminded me too much of thorns.

I paid, thanked her, and then back into the cold wilderness of the rainy season I went. The wind seemed to pick up and I decided that I should hurry back home, but knowing that the walk back would be tiresome I decided to use the bus that ran through the town.

I watched as the bus road its way to the bus stop. It halted with a loud high-pitched wheeze and the doors opened with a squeak. I headed for the fifth row seat on the right; nearest to the window so at least the wind would keep me up. I had a tendency to sleep in busses and miss my stop.

Luckily I didn't fall asleep but I had the great need to. I was exhausted from what today brought; from dealing with a man with cosplaying issues, staying up in a bus with rain pitter-patting outside, and the gentle smooth movements of said vehicle.

After I unlocked my door I stayed silent for a minute. I looked down and saw there were new shoes below me. Now I knew that I and whoever I considered friend or family never walked barefoot indoors especially not in this cold weather. The shoes beneath me were orange and had red swirls on them, and they seemed to look like converse shoes but had a rip-off look.

I opened the door very slow. I cringed when it squeaked and then suddenly there was a voice that made me cringe even more.

"Hey there!"

"Oh my God, it's _you_." I closed the door behind me and threw the plastic bag I'd been holding to the couch.

"Yes! Its-a-me!" He responded with waving arms and a wide grin.

"Whisker stickers, get out of my apartment." I say as I take off my overcoat and hang it on the coatrack.

Naruto frowned and crossed his arms, "No."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "If you don't get out I swear to God I will punch you."

I wasn't kidding, I was so pissed off at him. It wasn't funny. It was never funny to have begun with.

"You don't have the guts."

Then I punched him right on the cheek. I felt satisfied when I heard a small crunch.

"I _do_ have the fucking guts, now leave." I pointed towards my door; my fingers were shaking.

He rubbed his cheek and struggled to get on his feet. When he finally succeeded to stand he looked at me like a kicked puppy. Which got me even angrier.

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, look - can I _please_ stay? My home's got a leaking roof and I can't sleep in damp places."

My anger disappeared. I understood how he felt; I also didn't like sleeping in damp places. They tended to invite uninvited bugs and you tended to sweat more than you should. Furniture turned rotten and your only safe haven would be the showers. Assuming you had them working anyways.

"Fine." I rubbed my temples and left to go to my room, "I'll go get you some clothes but I hope you don't mind that some belonged to my brother."

I avoided looking back for a confirmation even though I needed one, but his silence spoke for him – it was a definite _okay_.

There were only three articles of clothing my brother left in my apartment. A white sweatshirt, olive green track pants and white boxers.

I threw them at him and almost smiled when I heard the sound of a muffled curse.

"Bathroom's next to the flower painting!"

"Which flower painting?!"

"Sunflower!"

I filled a bowl with cold water and grabbed a kitchen rag just as he entered the kitchen.

He looked pretty hot in my brother's clothes.

"These are pretty big." He commented, "Did they belong to your boyfriend?"

"My brother." I dunked the kitchen rag into the bowl, "Come here and sit down."

I heard him walk towards me while pulling a stool along with him. He sat down and stared as I squeezed and twisted water out of the kitchen rag.

I paused, pulled a chair towards me, and sat down. I dabbed the cold rag on his cheek. I looked back and forth from his eyes to his cheek. Naruto looked both very confused and grateful at what I was doing. When he smiled I decided not to look into his eyes anymore.

"I'm sorry for hurting you."

"I'm sorry for doubting you."

"It's okay, most people do and I should be more used to it then I actually am."

There was a small silence between us afterwards, but it seemed as if he and I were standing in the middle of a New York intersection. I heard honks and shouts as I moved the wet rag against the curve of his cheek. I didn't dare look into his eyes but I knew his was all over me.

When I finished I let my hand linger on his skin for a little longer than I had intended. I removed the rag from his skin and almost smiled when I saw that the bruise I had inflicted on him wasn't as bad as it first was.

The rag was suddenly yanked from my grasp and I felt my hand on warm wet skin. Naruto had my hand in his and he was pressing mine onto his cheek. He looked into my eyes as I did too.

"I'm not fictional."

I swallowed, "You know."

"Of course I know." He says, "Because I'm here and you can touch me and I can touch you."

"So you're… really him?"

"Yes."

My voice was a whisper now, "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Oh my God." I pulled my hand away, "Oh my _God_."

I began shaking and crying right on the spot. I was hunched over and convulsing in tears as he rubbed smooth circles on my back. Again and again I was repeating the words 'Why me' and all he could do was stay there and comfort me which was actually making things worse. The single fact that someone from an _anime _was here with me and I had touched him so intimately was enough to send my mind spiraling towards a momentary insanity.

"This isn't real, go away." I said, "Go away! _Go away_!"

I remember him not even trying to say 'calm down'. He was a person who understood how it felt to be how I was feeling, an indescribable feeling of rocks in your stomach. It wasn't sadness or guilt. Rather it was a storm in my womb.

"It's real, I swear it is." He says.

I said nothing afterwards. I just cried my heart out.

That's how the rest of the night went on. Me crying and him trying to be there for me, but I didn't stop crying until I ran out of tears. When I did; I remembered him carrying me to my room and putting me to sleep.

When I woke up it was dawn outside. The sky was a dark indigo and birds twittered in the air. I recognized the sounds as the wake up calls of my neighborhood's birds.

I looked around my room. It was dark and I was afraid of the darkness in my room. I always had been.

When I was a kid I remembered that my mother would always tell me that sleeping in the bathroom without the lights was worse than sleeping in my room at night. She even threatened to make me sleep in there. This actually helped me get over the fear of being alone in darkness.

The fear came back.

I never understood why just staring at the abyss of the perpetual darkness you could see all your fears. Whether they'd be monsters or ghosts they seemed to be always there in the dark. But for me, I saw nothing. And that's what scared me most. Seeing nothing.

I rolled onto my stomach and turned on the light. I squinted and threw my blanket off me.

Then Naruto comes in. I expected him to be bringing two mugs of milk and begin talking about some time-paradox about him being here or maybe something like I was the protagonist of this great scheme of strangeness. But all I got was silence.

He stared at me and I stared back. We weren't awkward, not at all.

"Good morning." I said and stood up.

"Good dawn actually." He said and walked past me towards the window.

"That greeting doesn't exist." I said and left.

I head to the kitchen and make me and (begrudgingly) him some toast and coffee. I placed the plates of bland crispy toast, jars of jams and chocolates, and cups of coffee on a tray and bring it to the living room where I see him sitting on the couch looking at me.

"Food." I say and hold back my wince, 'Shit, that was a bit mean.'

He doesn't respond as I place the tray in front of him. I sit next to him and turn on the TV.

"You're pretty rich." I hear him say, "For a college student."

"My family is." I respond as I flip through the channels, "But also because my roommate's dead."

"Your… what?"

"I know, crazy story right." I snort and then frown, "She was really close to me, had a tumor and died – she was rich and didn't have anymore parents or known relatives. Her name was Claire, blonde and blue-eyes, she had a tumor and died last year."

I stop at a cooking channel.

"Since she called me practically family she gave me all her money. Which you can guess is a lot."

He frowned, "You're pretty insensitive."

"It's been over a year. People die and all I can do is watch as they leave whether I like it or not." I rambled, "I respect her death and I wish you'd too. She'd want me to be happy and so that's how I am, I'm happy knowing that she's her and that she's doing what she's doing – be it dead or alive. It's her life."

I didn't like how he was treating me. Because, for some reason it felt like he was expecting me to reply like those girls in fanfics. They'd laugh or grin and say something cute back.

I could respond like that. But I think before I speak. I didn't want to be categorized as those girls who were, in a way, weak. I am a storm in skin, an earthquake in heels and a hurricane with lips.

I saw his frown turn into a smile as he directed his attention back onto the television.

"You're pretty cool." I hear him say and I laugh.

"You could learn a thing or two from me."

I saw him shake his head with a puckered lips expression and I laughed again and punched him on the shoulder. He punched me back.

I smiled with the right corner of my lips, "You're pretty cool too."

"You could learn a thing or two from me." He copies me.

We laugh and watch the man in the television cutting up tomatoes, wincing when he accidentally cut himself.

Forget that he's my childhood idol, I thought, he's pretty cool.

"You know," I began, not taking my eyes off the screen. "You're welcome to stay here, your apartment sounds like a terrible place."

"I might just take you up on that offer." He smiles, "Oh by the way I forgot to ask."

Naruto turns to me, "What's your name?"

"Clara." I looked at him from the corner of my eyes, "Clara Baston."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review and tell me what you thought! C:**


End file.
